


To Have And To Hold

by DefaltManifesto



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sniffles, sick!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 12:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2025333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt's sick and stubborn. It's okay though; Peter's a good nurse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Have And To Hold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Parksborn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parksborn/gifts).



> Parksborn needed some Spideydevil in their life and who am I to refuse? :) Title taken from Lover of the Light by Mumford and Sons/bridal vows I guess?

"You're sick."

"No I'm not."

Matt glowered in Peter's direction and Peter huffed. Matt's response was to press his finger back down on the braille of his court case and reach out with his other hand to shove a tissue unceremoniously up his nose to deal with how much it was running, too busy to actually blow his nose instead.

"Yeah, you look stellar," Peter said.

"Why are you here?"

"Foggy called. Said you were a pile of snot and unhappiness and he's worried about contracting something from your cloud of unholy illness," Peter said.

Matt looked back in his direction, his angry look destroyed by the tissue that was still shoved up his nose. "He said that?"

"I might've added the last bit. C'mon man, just blow your stupid nose and let's get you home," Peter said.

"I need to finish-"

"Foggy said he'll read it over and give you very detailed notes so it's like you weren't even gone," Peter said.

"You two are conspiring against me-"

"For your own good," Peter said.

Matt blew his nose and threw the tissue in the trash before grabbing the tissue box and his briefcase to pile under one arm. Peter grabbed his cane and handed it over.

"I grabbed the car keys from Foggy. He's going to take my bike to our apartment later to pick up his car," Peter said. "Because you are not going anywhere near public transportation. You'll get everyone else sick."

"Yeah, and what if I get you sick?" Matt asked as they made for the office door.

Peter popped up on his toes and kissed Matt on the cheek as he passed him by. "I'm your boyfriend, I have to take care of you and if that requires getting sick for a few days that's fine. You can just make it up to me later."

           

-.-

 

When they got back to their apartment, Peter made sure to take the briefcase, which he was sure had a few other court cases in it, to hide under the kitchen sink. He was pretty sure Matt was listening to where he walked and which cupboard drawer opened, but if he was lucky, he'd have the man too bundled up on the couch to really bother going after it.

"Get out of that suit and put on something warm and comfy," Peter ordered.

Matt huffed but headed off to their bedroom without further complaint. Peter returned to the kitchen and dug through their pantry until he managed to find some canned soup to throw in a pan on the stove. His track record of making canned soup was pretty atrocious. He was ninety percent sure it had something to do with the fact that Aunt May railed against the existence of canned soup and insisted that homemade soup was the only way to go, her words making some part of his mind always screw up when he tried to make something not homemade.

True to his track record, despite all his hoping and crossing of fingers, Matt emerged from the bedroom with a wrinkled nose as Peter poured the failed experiment down the sink.

"You tried to make canned soup again didn't you?" Matt asked.

"Uhm, no," Peter said.

Matt raised an eyebrow and took off his sunglasses to rub at his eyes for a moment before shuffling over to the couch and collapsing down on it with a box of tissues. Peter hurried over and grabbed the blanket Aunt May had made them as a house-warming gift to bundle Matt up in.

"You do realize I could've done that myself, right?" Matt asked as Peter tucked the last few edges in.

"Yes, but you need to conserve every ounce of energy for productive things, like making antibodies to fight being sick," Peter said. "I'm going to make actual soup. That canned crap would only make it anyways."

"You know the rest of society has gotten on just fine with canned soup," Matt called after him as he headed back to the kitchen.

Peter didn't dignify that with a response and instead began pulling out vegetables from the fridge and chicken from the freezer. It took longer than he liked, but soon he had soup simmering on the stove, steam rising up and filling the apartment with a smell that made both of their stomachs growl. Peter grabbed a big bowl and filled it before carrying it over to Matt on a dinner tray to place in his lap.

"You are not allowed to leave this couch until all of this is gone," Peter said.

"Sir, yes sir," Matt said, but his tone was amused, at least more so than it had been since Peter first showed up in his office.

Peter returned with his own bowl and took a seat in one of the nearby chairs before turning the television on and finding Matt's favorite news channel. Frankly, the news bored him, which he knew was probably a bad thing given that he was a super hero and worked for the Daily Bugle, but honestly, why listen to commentators when he could be out doing the actual researching, or saving of lives? Either or really.

When Matt's spoon clattered into the empty bowl, Peter beamed at him even though he couldn't see it. Matt seemed to know and gave Peter a half-hearted sour look when Peter took the bowl from him to put in the sink. He poured the leftovers into a Tupperware bowl to store in the fridge for dinner later before returning to Matt and grabbing his hands.            

"Up and at 'em, time for the world's best bath ever," Peter said.

Matt seemed relieved at that and Peter frowned.

"Are you hurting?" he asked.

"Just about everywhere. I hate being sick," Matt grumbled.

"Yeah, you and the rest of the world," Peter said.

He kept a hand on Matt's arm even though the man knew their apartment more than well enough to navigate it on his own, unable to help his need to hover as close as possible. Yeah it was just a really bad cold, but Peter didn't like seeing anyone he cared about looking so unhappy. It was times like these he was grateful for Matt's large salary, because it meant they got to splurge in a few areas, like getting an apartment with a tub big enough for the two of them.

Peter stripped them both out of their clothes as the bath ran, the steam making Matt's nose run even more. Peter just handed him a box of tissues and then dumped some of the bubble-making soap into the water as it filled. He helped Matt in first, making sure to keep the tissue box well within reach, before climbing in behind him armed with soap and a washcloth.

"Wanna tell me about the case you were working on?" Peter asked.

"It'll bore you," Matt warned.

"Yeah, but it'll make you feel productive and less grumpy, so go ahead," Peter said.

He soaped up the washcloth and began to rub it over every bit of skin he could reach. Matt let him work, content to talk about the court case and rebutting any comment Peter made with a practiced comment of his own which let Peter know just how far the man had gotten into the case before he had shown up. It always amazed him to listen to Matt talk about the cases. Peter knew that they were just different types of smart, but it made him feel awed every time he listened to the practiced ease Matt had with his words.

It made him wonder sometimes why Matt even bothered with him when he spent so much of his own time tripping over his words and saying things wrong and ultimately apologizing profusely for it.

Once they were both clean, Peter helped Matt out and drained the tub. He took his time toweling Matt off, pressing small kisses into the man's skin as he worked. It wasn't meant to lead anywhere. He just wanted Matt to know just how much he loved him, sick or not, because that was the point of being in a relationship as long as they had been.

Besides, Peter much preferred he be sick than bleeding out on the floor, which happened way more than he liked to both of them.

"Okay, back into sweats and then into bed," Peter said. "Doctor's orders."

Matt leaned against him as he pulled on his sweats, ducking his head to bury his face into the crook of Peter's neck. For awhile, they both just stood there, and Peter ran his hands up and down Matt's back in soothing motions, not quite sure what it was that was making Matt hesitate.

"Thanks," Matt said quietly after a few more moments. He stepped back and readjusted his glasses. "I know I'm not the easiest patient."

"It's okay," Peter said. "I make up for it by being a super sexy nurse." That earned him a smile and Peter kissed him quick on the lips before shoving the box of tissues back into Matt's hands. "Bed. Now."

Matt obeyed without further complaint. Peter crawled in beside him and then let Matt tuck himself into Peter's side with a few sniffles and a sigh. Peter ran his hands through Matt's red hair until the man went limp, finally giving into the realm of sleep. With a small smile, Peter closed his eyes and fell asleep too.


End file.
